Mr Wonderful
by Hanakage
Summary: Oh, the things we do for money. Nobody ever mentioned anything to Sasuke about love, though. NaruSasuNaru, AU
1. Chapter 1: Thanks, Mr Postman

Why yes, I am in fact alive! My first semester of college was wonderful, and I return in a few days. I've been writing a lot over my long break, including this random little idea that suddenly popped into my brain out of nowhere. This is dedicated to the lovely **fish**** for ashes** for her 18th birthday. :)

**Warnings:** swearing, AU, eventual boyxboy, and more than a little silliness.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Naruto_.

Enjoy!

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**Mr. Wonderful  
**_Chapter 1: Thanks, Mr. Postman _

"This can't be happening," Sasuke groaned, head in his hands.

Itachi frowned, the worry that faintly creased his brow nearly indiscernible, but nonetheless present. "Sasuke…"

Sasuke shook his head slowly back and forth, hands still pressed tightly against his face, fingers biting into his temples.

Itachi looked down at him and sighed. "Melodrama doesn't look good on you, little brother. You're overreacting."

Finally, Sasuke's head reared up from his hands, too disbelieving to even properly cast a glare at his brother. "Overreacting? He _cut me off_, Itachi. _Cut me off!_"

"Still, you're overreacting. I know your foolish head may find this hard to believe, but this is hardly the end of the world," Itachi replied, settling himself down next to Sasuke on the shady steps of their expansive back porch and squinting out into the bright summer sunlight.

"That's real easy for you to say, asshole," Sasuke hissed. "They paid all _your_ tuition. And for grad school on top of it. What the hell am I going to _do_?"

"I should think even people with a fraction of your intelligence would realize this means you'll need to get a job."

"I know that," Sasuke glared (but weakly, knowing Itachi was impervious to it and not wanting the pointless eye strain). "But even if I work as many jobs as I can fit into the time I'm not in class or doing schoolwork, try to take out a loan _and_ sell any unnecessary internal organs, I'm still not going to be able to afford two more years at over fifty thousand dollars each, plus who knows how much for grad school…"

He sighed, dropping his head back into his hands. "Maybe I should just switch back to majoring in business after all."

"_No_," Itachi responded immediately, and the vehemence in that single word shocked Sasuke. Itachi's frown had deepened, but when he caught sight of Sasuke's widened eyes, his own expression calmed.

"Sasuke," he said evenly, "you're right. I never had to worry for a second about Father not paying for my education. Why would I have had reason to? I did everything that was expected of me. Went to college for business, got a master's degree in the same, accepted the position at Uchiha Corp. that had been waiting for me since birth."

"Well, you're the firstborn son, the perfect one," Sasuke sneered. "Of course you were expected to follow in Father's footsteps. Not stumble along after them like I always seem to do."

"Father had no different expectations for you than he did for me. The distinction is that you didn't follow them so blindly."

Sasuke opened his mouth, but Itachi waved him off with a hand. "Father loves you, Sasuke, though his present actions may appear to indicate the contrary. I believe he cut you off not to punish you or push you away, but rather to scare you a little bit, in the assumption—or perhaps simply the hope—that you'll recognize the 'error of your ways', so to speak. The path he wanted for you would lead to a lifetime of security, after all. And what more could a parent want for their child than security?"

Sasuke nodded resignedly.

Itachi actually chuckled, startling Sasuke for a second time. "_Happiness_, Sasuke. In his own stubbornness, Father's forgetting _happiness_."

Sasuke arched an uncomprehending eyebrow. _Happiness?_

"You're someone that values truth, Sasuke. That's why you want to be a journalist, is it not?"

He didn't wait for Sasuke to nod an affirmation to his rhetorical question. "For all our brilliance and success, there _is_ one thing that we Uchiha often seem to not be so good at."

Sasuke _stared_ at him.

"No, really," Itachi assured him. "And what I'm referring to is _thinking for ourselves_. But it's what you're doing right now. And I know _I'm_ proud of you." He laid a hand gently on Sasuke's shoulder, just briefly enough for Sasuke to register it before he removed it. They were Uchiha and didn't do displays of affection, after all.

Sasuke managed a small smile.

"So go study journalism, or whatever you choose to do. Even if it doesn't bring you the security that our parents want for you, what you choose is what will end up bringing you the most satisfaction, the most happiness. And that's what's important."

Sasuke let his smile fade. "…Are you happy, Itachi?"

After a moment of thought, Itachi nodded. "I'm happy enough, yes. Though sometimes I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I had ever given myself the chance to consider doing something with my life that wasn't wholly expected of me. And that's what I'm trying to convey to you, Sasuke: you shouldn't have to only wonder."

With that he gracefully stood and turned to go back into the house.

Sasuke smirked. "I think you would've been great at psychology. At least, you've always been a master at mindfuckery."

_(Thank you.)_

Itachi allowed a small smirk of his own, and didn't reply. Just as he was heading back into the house, he paused and tossed one more thought over his shoulder:

"You and Father aren't nearly as different as you think you are, little brother. You are, after all, both very foolish."

Sasuke scowled.

*****

The afternoon sun was low on the horizon when Itachi stepped out onto the porch again, only to find Sasuke lying stretched out across the top step and staring at the ceiling.

Sasuke had been there for hours, feeling both unable to enter the house and completely at a loss of what to about the obscene amount of money he needed to somehow (legally) acquire in a very short period of time. The feelings of imminent doom had been somewhat soothed by Itachi's words, but his worrying had not slackened.

"Comfortable?" Itachi drawled, gazing down at him.

"Very," he deadpanned. "And it's not like I'm in a disastrous financial predicament that to which the only solutions that come to mind are robbing a bank or auctioning myself off on eBay, or anything like that."

"As much as I'm sure your fanclub would all but soil themselves with excitement at the mere prospect of the latter, I've just discovered the solution to your problem, little brother," Itachi remarked, holding out a seemingly ordinary piece of paper.

"You're welcome," he added tonelessly, as Sasuke reached up and snatched it out of his hand. "It came in the mail today. I was going to toss it with the rest of the junk mail, but then that caught my eye."

At first, all Sasuke could focus on was the line that read, "Winner receives a full college scholarship!"

And then he read the rest of the flyer, and barely restrained himself from ripping it to shreds or flinging it away from himself like a diseased animal (or both).

"_No way in hell,"_ he glared certain death at Itachi, who only seemed amused. "I mean it. No way would I _ever_… stoop so low, ugh. I'd rather sell myself on eBay. _No way in hell_, Itachi. You hear me? _No. Fucking. Way._"

Itachi merely smirked.

*****

"Right this way, young man!" a woman with a clipboard pointed him in the direction of another room, blushing as she did so.

Sasuke barely refrained from rolling his eyes and somehow managed to grit out a thank you before heading in the indicated direction, Itachi in step beside him.

"Nervous, little brother?" Itachi teased, not even trying to hide how much he was enjoying Sasuke's obvious discomfort.

"Have I told you lately how much I wish I was an only child?" Sasuke seethed.

"That's nice. There's no way they'll be able to resist _that_ sparkling attitude."

Sasuke sighed as they reached the door at the end of the hallway. "Why the hell am I doing this again?"

"Because you're desperate," Itachi responded (in a tone that would have sounded downright merry on any human being capable of expressing normal emotion), going to lean against a nearby wall to wait.

"Oh. Right." Sasuke grit his teeth and pushed open the door.

Inside the room was a long, narrow table. Seated at it were five people with clipboards, all of them women. Their talking ceased the minute Sasuke stepped into view. The clipboard slipped out of one woman's fingers and slapped loudly against the table. Blushing, she didn't even reach to pick it back up.

A beat of silence passed in which the women looked at each other.

"YOU'RE IN!" they simultaneously chimed.

Sasuke did his best to force a smile and murmured his thanks, remembering how Itachi had repeatedly told him to be polite and make the best impression possible. (Though if the expressions on their faces were any indication, he didn't even need to try.)

One of the women fumbled to hand him a packet of information, which he took wordlessly. He left feeling very much like he'd been violated in some way…

Itachi turned to regard his brother when he exited the room looking even more miserable than when he entered.

"They rejected you?" he asked, in a tone that would have indicated surprise if Itachi was capable of being surprised.

"No, worse," Sasuke sighed. "They didn't."

Looking down at the packet in his hands, he felt his stomach drop to his feet in pure, unadulterated dread, something quite like panic churning inside of him.

Scrawled across the top of the packet, in large bold letters, was the header:

"**WELCOME TO THE MR. WONDERFUL PAGEANT!**"

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**A/N:** "Mr. Wonderful" is the first pageant name I could come up with, and it was so stupid/cheesy I had to go with it. XD

I'm a sucker for good-older-brother!Itachi And, as usual, I enjoy torturing Sasuke immensely. ;) I also apologize for the lack of Naruto in this chapter, but he'll show up soon, I promise!

There should only be a few chapters total to this. I was hoping to have the whole thing written out before I went back to college and the new semester started, but unfortunately I did not have the time. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.

Please tell me what you think of this silliness?


	2. Chapter 2: Displays of Maturity

It may be late on Valentine's Day, but it is still Valentine's Day! Hope your day, however it was spent, was filled with love!

**Warnings:** swearing, AU, eventual boyxboy, and more than a little silliness.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Naruto_.

Enjoy!

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**_Chapter 2: Displays of Maturity_**

"Formal wear, swimsuit, talent, question-and-answer… wait, _what_? Oh, _no fucking way_ am I wearing nothing but a swimsuit in front of those lunatics."

"Hmm, I suppose you'd better start looking now for a Speedo that fits."

"_WHAT_?!"

"It was a _joke_, Sasuke," Itachi sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly. "I'm sure swim trunks are what is expected."

Sasuke double-checked to find that that was true, but huffed his indignation nonetheless.

"Honestly, you're participating in a small, local pageant for male college students desperate for tuition money, not the Miss Universe competition. It's hardly even what you could call a pageant… more like a mock-pageant. I was reading the flyer that came in the mail, and it said that there's some real pageant for young women with a scholarship prize, but none for men. So the local chapter of some women's club decided to make a male pageant, aiming to support local youth and probably get some laughs in at the same time."

Sasuke remained silent and stared out the passenger side window of Itachi's car, obviously sulking.

"Sasuke, a group of bored, rich housewives has the power to give you a large sum of money that will allow you to continue attending college without having to resort to harvesting your own internal organs, and all you have to do is prance around in front of them and babble about how much you want world peace. So quit acting like a whining child and deal with it already."

Sasuke looked nauseated at the mere thought of "prancing" anywhere, but sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"If it makes you feel better," Itachi mused, "this will most likely be such a small, corny little affair that there will only be about ten people in the audience, if that."

"Still, ten people that I'll have to bear watching me as I parade around like some prize show poodle beside whatever stupid meatheads make it into this 'competition,'" Sasuke grumbled, but was slightly pacified for the time being.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

*****

The day of the first rehearsal arrived far too quickly, at least in Sasuke's opinion. Itachi dropped him off at the civic center, where the pageant was to be held, looking the part of a parent dropping off their child on a particularly excruciating first day of school.

He wandered the halls of the building, taking in the scuffed linoleum and dusty, worn-out Christmas decorations that had never been put away with disdain.

Why there needed to be one rehearsal, let alone two, was beyond him. How much preparation could possibly be required for a stupid joke?

He followed some crudely made signs—large black arrows scrawled across plain white paper, clearly a sign of the professionalism put into this production—into the auditorium of the civic center, which was usually reserved for various town meetings and school concerts.

Stepping through the auditorium doors, he took in the sight of the stage with its faded curtains and the dozens of uncomfortable metal folding chairs aligned in crooked rows in front of it. There were several young guys slouching in the chairs, most looking about as pleased to be a part of this charade as he was.

He scrutinized his "competition": one with ridiculous tattoos on his cheeks, one wearing dark sunglasses indoors, one with obviously dyed red hair and a fondness for eye makeup, one with a black hoodie pulled up over his head, one fat and inhaling whatever food was within reach, one napping and about to fall out of his chair, one ghastly pale with an eerily pleased expression on his face, one with some kind of unnatural growth where his eyebrows should be, and one with girlishly long hair sitting ramrod straight in his seat and gazing contemptuously at the rest of them.

All of them were completely, utterly average, regular college guys. Sasuke wondered if they were the only ones that had applied, or how selective the women on the panel had been.

But from the looks of things, this was in the bag.

As he took his seat, a woman with a clipboard stepped onto the stage. She began to call their names, checking to see if all of them were present. It actually took effort for Sasuke to do more than grunt when his name was called.

"And lastly," she said, tucking a strand of her short black hair back behind her ears, "Naruto Uzu—"

"I'm here!" a voice shouted from behind them.

Sasuke turned with the others to look at the guy hurrying in. He had to squint his eyes at first, though, because with his sunny blond hair and blaringly orange t-shirt, the guy was much too bright for the drab room.

"Sorry," the guy grinned sheepishly at the woman, his smile too bright as well. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki."

She flushed slightly, returning his grin with a smile of her own. "It's alright, we were just getting started."

Relieved, the guy—Naruto, was it?—sat down a few chairs away from Sasuke. He had the bluest eyes Sasuke had ever seen.

In that moment, Sasuke knew he had encountered a nuisance. (Still not actual _competition_, of course, but this guy was clearly a charmer, and people skills were admittedly not on Sasuke's lengthy list of accomplishments.)

Not to mention that this guy was… fairly decent-looking.

"Okay, now that we're all here," the woman continued in a cheery voice, "I'd like to officially welcome you to the Mr. Wonderful pageant! We're thrilled at the prospect of showcasing and supporting young talent, and hope you're as excited about being a part of this as we are!"

Sasuke scowled.

"My name is Shizune, and I'll be the technical director for the show. Now I'm just going to remind you of the rules and procedures of the pageant…"

Sasuke didn't even pretend to listen while Shizune prattled on. He was too focused on Naruto, who still wore a carefree grin and was nodding along to whatever nonsense the woman was spewing.

That grin was bad, Sasuke thought. There was a chance—a very, very slight one, but still—that that grin could get in the way of his imminent victory.

Sasuke felt the ridiculous urge to smash it, to wipe it off idiot's not-completely-hideous face.

"And remember, with such a significant prize at stake," Shizune's voice buzzed in the background, "we expect fair play from you at all times."

*****

As they waited all together backstage for the rehearsal to officially begin, the contestants introduced themselves and engaged in some small talk.

Sasuke got along fine with the quiet ones (meaning they acknowledged each other with slight nods and let the conversation end there). It was the loud ones that tested his (limited) patience; the one with the weird triangles on his face had a loud, barking laugh that already started to give Sasuke a headache, and the one with the freaky eyebrows kept babbling about "youth" or some other sunny, optimistic bullshit. And then there was—

A hand was thrust practically into his face. "Hey," Naruto grinned—that grin again!—and introduced himself. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki, and—"

"I don't care," Sasuke finished, ignoring the hand.

The grin turned into a scowl. It pleased Sasuke immensely.

Naruto stared at him hard but didn't lower his hand. Sasuke sneered down at it.

"Shake my hand," Naruto said between clenched teeth. When Sasuke made no move to do so, Naruto reached forward and yanked Sasuke's hand into a clenching grip of a handshake. "I said, shake my damn hand, you arrogant bastard," Naruto growled.

Sasuke saw Shizune moving to approach the group, and leaned closer to make it look like they were getting acquainted instead of barely restraining themselves from getting in a fistfight. Thankfully, no one else was close enough to overhear their conversation. "Sasuke Uchiha," he bit out grudgingly, tightening his own grip on Naruto's hand. Neither of them noticed that they were cutting off each other's circulation.

"I've been watching you. You're acting like you're too good to be here," Naruto commented in a low but angry voice, "but the fact that you're here means you need this money just as bad as I do, as we all do. So who are you to look down at us? What, did your daddy cut you off?" Sasuke stiffened.

"We all have just as much a shot at winning as the next guy. I don't care how good looking you are, you're not going to win if you keep acting like the world's biggest asshole."

With that, Naruto forced his grin back in place and stepped back, releasing Sasuke's hand. "See you in the final round, Sasuke," he smirked, and turned away.

"Places, everyone!" Shizune called out, before Sasuke could form a retort.

*****

"Rehearsal" consisted mostly of the contestants moving across the stage in overly unnecessary lines and other formations, all for the sake of presenting themselves to their amused and most likely predominantly female audience.

At one point as Sasuke was walking up to the front of the stage, Naruto was walking in the opposite direction back to his place in line.

If directly asked, Sasuke wouldn't deny that it was no accident when his shoulder brushed roughly against Naruto's as they passed. (Hey, he may have been a mature adult, but he _was_ still a guy.)

He would deny, however, that when Naruto "accidentally" bumped into him later in the rehearsal, he stumbled. Sasuke Uchiha didn't _stumble_.

*****

"—and _then_ he—"

Itachi held up a hand to cut him off, shaking his head. They sat at the kitchen counter of his tidy one-bedroom apartment. Sasuke had taken temporary residency of Itachi's couch because it was summer and living at their parents' home was out of the question since he wasn't presently on speaking terms with Fugaku.

"If you care so little about this 'peon', as you've so referred to him several times," Itachi said, pausing to take his final bite of Chinese takeout, "Why are you spending so much time talking about him?"

Sasuke's food was barely touched, having been too busy ranting about the idiot. Itachi didn't wait for an answer and picked up his plate to take it to the sink.

Left alone at the counter, Sasuke picked at his food. As he took a bite of now cold Kung-Pao chicken, he wondered why he kept hearing Naruto's voice in his head calling him good-looking.

**TBC!**

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**A/N: **This is a bit of a filler chapter, so I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Let me know what you thought please? :)


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